Barry reflects on the sacred objects kids get attached to, like stuffed animals or blankets. She recalls the deeply private and almost mystical relationship kids have with those objects and the feeling that the objects are kind of alive and can “keep trouble away” (149). Barry calls these totems “magic lanterns.” Barry is surprised at how much she remembers her own magic lantern, a yellow blanket.

Adults find childhood object attachment troubling and typically seek to separate kids from their objects. Older children also enjoy the power they have over younger ones by messing with their beloved objects. Everyone has a story about a kid losing their beloved object; these stories emblematize the nature of storytelling and its ability to evoke sympathy for people we’ve never met, or who aren’t even real. At the airport, Barry intercepts a custodian who is about to throw away a lost panda. She leaves a note at the lost and found in case the family comes back looking for it. They never call. Barry still has the panda.

At 14, Barry meets a boy whose face she now barely remembers, except for a chipped tooth. She and the boy take speed, drink wine, and kiss.